the bubbles. “I want to live as many years,”
she says. In youth, forgetting youth.
Some bastard god with nothing else to do,
his pants unzipped, says fine with folded arms,
“Live a million carbonated years.”
And now her teeth are black as soda pop.
She dwells in caves all made of crystal candy
and there she entertains. Her wisdom is
an artifact. Her stories are for sale.
We buy the little bottles of her voice
and pour them over ice. A cool glass
of woman for your father, for your gods,
a million bubbles popping on their tongues.
Mollie Chandler is a student in Lesley University's MFA program. She lives, works, and drinks coffee in Boston, Massachusetts. Mollie wrote her first (very short) collection of poems when she was 8-years-old and has been writing poetry ever since. Her work navigates her own struggle with voicelessness, and explores, criticizes, and celebrates ideas of tradition, morality, and spirituality. Her work has been featured in Paradise in Limbo, Poems2Go, Empty Sink Publishing, The Merrimack Review, The Critical Pass Review, and Sediments Literary-Arts Journal.